


WAKE

by CallMeKodiak



Category: Original Work
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-02 22:50:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21169175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallMeKodiak/pseuds/CallMeKodiak
Summary: Daniel, an American studying in France, finds himself entangled in world-changing events as a result of a bad dream.





	1. Joan

**Author's Note:**

> This is an original work. Please do not reproduce this story in any form.
> 
> Comments, suggestions, hate mail: CallMeKodiak@gmail.com

WAKE

joan

It always started with the blinding white light. Blurs of color bled into existence, offering relief from the unyielding light. Green smudges formed into trees and grass with an electric blue sky overhead. The white retreated and eventually became the wispy hints of distant clouds, unable to impose their will on the peaceful tableau below. A path extended into the distance, parting the trees. The horizon closed in and a winding road laid itself over the grass fifty meters ahead. The sunlight illuminated a small picket fence, only the length of a car, marking the end of the path and warning pedestrians away from the traffic.

Alexander blinked his eyes and looked down at the path. The gritty sandy surface was bad for running. He knew his feet would slip when he began to run. He focused ahead, looking for the danger in front of him.

“Alex?” A voice spoke next to him, soft and curious, with a hint of concern.

Alexander couldn’t remember what his wife had been talking about before his expression had alerted her that something was wrong. He didn’t respond to her now and instead shook his arm free of hers and began to run. Maybe this time would be different. His feet slipped in the sandy gravel and his wife’s attempt to get his attention by grasping at his arm slowed him. Once he began to move, he sprinted with all the force he could muster to his legs, leaving his now panicked wife behind and churning up the terrain in his wake.

He ran toward the tiny figure of a toddler who was also running, though not with purpose. The child was running free, happily experiencing the world around him, but simultaneously oblivious to it. He ran directly toward the street and Alexander’s outstretched arms and urgent shouts had never stopped him before. This time he was ready, he was faster and stronger.

He wasn’t fast enough. Seconds after he began his sprint, Nicolaus stepped off the curb and into the path of a blue sedan. The driver reacted quickly but could only brake so fast. The impact sent the toddler flying and Alexander kept running, willing the result to be different this time.

Before he could reach the still body of his son, the light swept in on him again, eating away the details at the edge of his vision. The white tunnel collapsed, and light overwhelmed him.

Alexander awoke in a tangle of sheets with sunlight streaking in through a dirty window. He rolled from the bed, really just a pad over a flimsy futon frame. The apartment was tiny, a single room with a small cooking area and what passed for a restroom. He crossed to the mirror and splashed cold water on his face before looking at himself in the mirror. The face looking back at him was strong but carried an eternal sadness. Once again, he had failed to save his son. Maybe next time he could be closer or run faster.

It would have to wait. He had work to do and research to be done before the night came. He settled into the small chair in front of the apartment’s workstation and began to type. A news article came up with a bold headline “Massacre”. He began to read about what happened at Courgeuse Foi University.

“On Tuesday, a gunman opened fire in the square of Courgeuse Foi University, killing seven and wounding twenty more, all students.”

* * *

There was a small café on the campus of Courgeuse Foi University. It catered mostly to students, but the occasional staff member would stop by for coffee or a baked good. Cookies were made in the mid afternoon and many students would welcome the end of a day of classes by stopping by and partaking in oatmeal raisin goodness.

The café was staffed by students who traded work for tuition assistance. This evening was particularly slow. Sundays always were. As the sun set, Daniel found himself standing at the counter and listening to Antoinette prattle on about how her new artwork had been irritating her.

“You knew you had to work today so I don’t have a lot of sympathy for you. At the minimum you could have waited a month until the term was over so you could let it heal.” Daniel was wiping down the counter, removing the daily ration of coffee rings.

Antoinette wasn’t at all fazed by his criticism. She was too enamored by the beautiful tattoo she had recently got on her wrist. It was of a butterfly in a radiant rainbow of colors and she was extremely proud of it. She insisted to Daniel that it represented her free spirit. Daniel thought it represented poor decision-making skills. “It will be fine in a day or two. Thanks for letting me take the easy stuff tonight.”

Daniel shrugged. He wasn’t about to make Antoinette do something that could hurt her wrist, or could contaminate the kitchen, so she had been mainly serving and cleaning tables all night. He wasn’t going to admit it to her, but he liked her a lot. Partly, he wasn’t going to admit it to her because her boyfriend was one of Daniel’s closest friends, another American exchange student named Kevin. As it happened, Kevin worked in the back of the café and overheard their conversation.

“Don’t be too hard on her Daniel. I’m the one who feels stupid about the whole thing. I offered to pay and, on the way back, wouldn’t you know it that my check engine light came on?” Kevin had peeked his head into the order window so he could see them both. “I swear man, I’m glad they don’t sell Fiats in the States. When I get back, I’m getting myself a real car.”

“They do sell them in the States now. But come on, yours is twenty years old. Any car is gonna have problems at that age.” Daniel looked out the window of the café into the parking lot where Kevin’s rusty grey Fiat sat at an awkward angle in the parking lot. Kevin would scrape together the money to fix it. Sometimes Daniel was suspicious that he secretly loved the old car because it let him spend his spare time tinkering under the hood. Daniel figured it was reliable uncertainty. He looked around the nearly empty café and out onto what he could see of the campus. His measure of reliable uncertainty was about to run out. In a month he would be done with the term and after that, it was all uncertainty.

He loved the campus and the classes and thought of himself as particularly lucky that he was able to attend a school overseas. The experience had been a far cry from his upbringing in Ohio. The youngest of four boys, his mother had worked feverishly to provide for them. She had been so busy because their father had left them so he could more efficiently gamble himself into obscurity. She wasn’t about to see her children suffer. Daniel still carried some unavoidable resentment in his heart. His older brothers had essentially raised him, and what he knew of his mother mostly consisted of high expectations and fleeting conversations. He felt an absentee pressure that seemed focused into the small periods of time when he was expected to report on how classes were going. The freedom of seeking advanced education thousands of miles away from his family was something that he thrived on. He was able to develop social ties, and his biggest critic was himself, at least when he wasn’t on the phone with his mom.

* * *

Daniel trudged through the deep snow on the grounds of Courgeuse Foi, opting to take the shortcut through the yards rather than the roundabout paths that would return him to his dorm. He had closed out the library, his research pushing him to the limit of his endurance. In that sense, the brisk air served to keep him awake for his journey. His abbreviated trip still took him past the towering statue of Joan of Arc that dominated the courtyard. Standing twenty feet tall and bathed in the glow of a bank of floodlights, Joan was pictured astride an armored horse, a banner frozen in time waving over her head. She was regaled in armor except for a helmet. The entire statue was white marble and was pristine, being the pride of the school.

Daniel grasped the USB drive in his pocket and smiled up at Joan before saying a silent prayer for her blessing. His dissertation was a biographical account of Joan’s life, death and eventual elevation to Sainthood. While everybody knew the story from legend, he wanted to flex his historical muscle through the precision of his research. The flash drive carried his newly completed paper, perfect and finished just before the deadline. Days of trading sleep for naps and coffee had paid off. 

The wind picked up and forced him to cut short his reminiscence. Once he had accomplished his doctorate there would be time for reflection. He had a lot to prove and had worked himself to the bone to do it. Now though, it was time to sleep and it would not be delayed any longer. He hurried to his dorm room, climbing the stairs in lieu of the elevator, fearful that he would lean against the wall and fall asleep now that he was in the warm confines of the building. On reaching his room he shucked off his shoes and damp socks. He sat on the edge of his bed, determined to get ready for bed, but needing a minute to collect himself. Alas, he leaned back, and sleep conquered him the moment his head touched the mattress. 

Daniel’s eyes opened involuntarily, forced wide by a thunderclap. It was no longer night and rain fell, wetting his hair and dripping into his eyes. He blinked, trying to come to terms with where he found himself. He was in a crowded town street, if it could be called that. Water pooled in the tracks left from the passage of wagons and the exposed surface was cobblestone being washed clean by the rain and then immediately dirtied under the feet of what his mind instantly identified as peasantry. The people were dressed in simple and almost uniformly drab clothing. Many wore a hat, hood or bonnet as protection from the rain. Daniel looked down at himself and realized he was similarly dressed. He wore a heavy coat, oiled against the rain. Upon exploration, he found that it had a hood attached to the collar and he pulled it up to cover his head.

While not exactly like he had experienced before, he knew he was in a dream. That knowledge of being in a dream was what most startled him, as he had never felt such wakefulness in a dream. He stepped into the crowd and flowed with it, toward the city square. The people he overheard were speaking French, heavily accented but familiar enough to him that he was able to gather what was going on. There was to be an execution. He didn’t need the dream to continue to know who was about to be put to death.

When he reached the square, he shouldered his way through the crowd, eager to see what his mind had concocted with the information he had feverishly been assembling. He ignored the curses of his dream crowd as he rudely forced his way past them. Then he saw her, and he froze in his tracks. She didn’t look anything like he imagined. She was smaller than her immortal statue. Her hair had been cut and was filthy, as were her clothes. She looked defiant in the hands of her captors, but still defeated and weighed down by the chains securing her wrists to the stout post she was bound to.

Daniel couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He knew the facts of Joan’s execution, but hadn’t pictured her like this. Something seemed off and for a moment, he felt dizzy, leaning forward and jutting ahead of the crowd, only to be caught by one of the stern pike-bearing guards that faced outward from the center of the courtyard. Something was wrong. This wasn’t the picture of valiant martyrdom he held in his head. This was a young woman about to be murdered. The guard got him standing again and once Daniel was on his feet, the young man turned away to look over his shoulder at the prisoner. Daniel realized the crowd was gleefully awaiting the hooded executioner stepping forward to light the wood. In the light rain, the wood would be wet and would burn slowly, prolonging the suffering.

He couldn’t allow that to happen, dream or not. The pyre was built on a raised platform, but not one that Daniel judged would be difficult to ascend quickly. The stairs were nearby and unguarded, the militiamen lax in their vigil due to the friendly crowd, eager for their sadistic entertainment. Daniel thanked his subconscious for allowing him an opening. The guard in front of him still had his back turned and riding on his left hip was a sword.

Daniel took a determined step forward, fantasies of heroism flooding his head, fueled by a gleeful pounding of his heart. He reached out and grabbed the hilt of the sword, drawing its weight in a single pull. It was heavier than he thought it would be, but he swung it in a wide arc, catching the surprised guard across the chest. The guard’s look of surprise melted into pain as the sword cut into the leather armor he wore, sending him to the ground moaning in pain in the wake of Daniel’s running footsteps.

At the top of the platform the black-hooded executioner was lifting the torch he would use to light the bonfire. Daniel ran as fast as he could will his legs, shocked that he seemed to be moving so slowly in his dream. He willed himself to go faster, to climb the steps and reach the executioner before it was too late, before the other guards could properly react to their compatriot’s shouts. Daniel perceived time slowing, his steps taking him more quickly toward the executioner than the guards were to him. He pictured his swing, euphoric in the dream world and the freedom of fantasy.

The executioner, alerted by the commotion behind him, turned with the torch in his hand. He was met by the image of a young man crowning the top step of the platform, a sword raised high overhead and descending at blinding speed. He raised the torch to block the blow, but the stout handle shattered under the blade and his panicked cry was cut short as the sword reached the junction between his shoulder and neck. He collapsed in a spray of precious blood.

Daniel stood over the executioner’s body and turned to face the shocked crowd. He threw back the hood and watched the guards nearest him stop their pursuit. He smiled and nearly laughed at the ridiculousness of what he had done. His research didn’t include some idiot rushing the platform and halting the execution.

“My god, did you see that?” He shouted to the crowd, laughter in his voice. His glee didn’t persist for long. The guards had stopped but held their pikes ahead of them. They weren’t advancing but were keeping him surrounded in place. He didn’t see the archers right away, but thought he caught a glimpse of them as multiple arrows crossed in his chest and sent him spinning to the ground. The pain that erupted in his lungs was unbearable and his eyes widened. He saw Joan watching him with sadness and relief on her face. He wanted to smile at her, but he found himself too weak to do so. His head fell to the wooden platform, too heavy for him to keep it up. Darkness claimed him. 

Daniel awoke with a start. He was in his bed, still in his clothes from his late night at the library. He had obviously tossed and turned throughout the night and blankets were tangled around his legs. He looked at the clock and sighed with relief. His thesis wasn’t due for a couple hours and he had time to print it out and properly assemble it. He was silently thankful that he hadn’t overslept. He reached into his pocket and withdrew the USB drive that contained his thesis, glad that his fitful sleep hadn’t damaged it.

After a quick shower and a change of clothes, Daniel headed into the bright light of a winter morning. The sun was out full force and he narrowed his eyes on the trek to the campus coffee shop. The walk was short, and Daniel didn’t have a lot of time to dwell on his dream the night before. He decided to take a detour to pay Joan a visit. While the memory was fresh in his mind, he wanted to compare his mental image of her to that of the statue in the square.

Immediately he sensed something was wrong. There was still a towering figure atop the pedestal, but this statue was masculine and cast of bronze, plated in silver armor. Daniel took halting steps toward the statue, unbelieving that in the few short hours somebody had switched them out. He looked at the plaque on the pedestal and read aloud.

“Chevalier Bayard. The knight without fear and beyond reproach.” The name was familiar to him, but he had to take a moment to properly recall his exploits. Outnumbered thirty to one, he had led a thousand soldiers in the successful defense of Mezière. Daniel’s fingers traced the lettering of the plaque. It was worn and weathered. It had seen years of abuse at the hands of the elements. He took a step back, looking up at the sunlight glinting off the armored statue. He would have taken a second step back, except he collided with somebody and nearly fell, except for a hand steadying him.

“Whoa Daniel, you alright?” It was Kevin.

“Joan. Where’s Joan?” Daniel found that he was having trouble breathing and searched the face of his friend, looking to make sense of what had happened to the statue. Had he really fallen asleep for a week instead of a night? Was there some high-end prank going on?

“Joan who?” Kevin raised an eyebrow and the edge of his mouth curled up in a smirk. “Did you meet some girl last night instead of finishing your thesis? I didn’t think you would be so easily-“

“Joan of Arc! Where is she? The statue!” Daniel grabbed Kevin’s shirt and pointed excitedly behind him with his free hand.

“Joan of Arc? Why on earth would she have a statue?” Kevin knew the obscure legend of the maiden said to have made a difference in the Hundred Years war. He didn’t have time to explore Daniel’s mad ranting because Daniel chose that time to turn and bolt off to the library with a stricken look on his face.

An hour later Daniel found himself surrounded by open books, desperately searching for a history he could no longer find. A computer screen glowed next to him, the contents of his USB drive displayed for his reference. At last, a dusty book surrendered its contents to him and he traced a finger along the page as he read.

“Joan of Arc. Born 1412, died 1467… Famous for turning the tide at the Siege of Orleans… Legend holds she was saved from burning at the stake by an angel of the Lord who descended to the Earth and slew all who attempted to execute her, saying ‘Thou shall witness the will of thy Lord, God!’”

Daniel looked at the computer and compared what was written. Two things became crystal clear and crashed down on his head. First, he had somehow changed history, real history. Second, his thesis was now completely and entirely wrong.


	2. Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some clarity is offered to Daniel by a visitor.

Wake

snow

“What’s wrong kid?”

Daniel looked up from where he had desperately faceplanted on the stack of alien history books. He had been repeatedly wishing that he could awake from what was spiraling into a subtle and horrible nightmare. There was a man standing over his shoulder, tall with dirty blond hair buzz cut almost as short as the stubble that covered his jaw. He was staring intently at the computer screen in front of him, reading what was visible of Daniel’s thesis. Dressed in slacks with a pressed shirt and tie, the man could have been a professor at the school, but Daniel didn’t recognize him. The man raised an eyebrow.

“No shit? Joan of Arc died in your past?”

Daniel reached out and grabbed the USB drive and pulled it from the computer. “What are you talking about? What do you mean my past?”

“I mean in your past, not in _real_ history. You saw it in your dream, right?”

Daniel nodded and stood up, looking up at the taller man. “You know what happened in my dream? What did I do? I feel like I’m losing my grip on reality.”

“That’s not it at all kid. Reality is losing its grip on you.” He looked at his watch and held out a hand. “I’m Alexander. I’ve got an appointment to get to, but you can come along if you’ve got questions.”

“Daniel.” Daniel shook Alexander’s hand in bewilderment and began to follow him deeper into the library. They approached the stairway and as they climbed Daniel found his voice.

“You seem to not be surprised. What’s happening to me?”

“Well, it’s hard to say exactly. Might be that nothing at all is happening to you, but an awful lot is happening around you. Tell me something straight son, you’re not especially happy with life, right?”

Daniel was taken aback by the question, partly because he really wasn’t happy. His entire adult life had been an exercise in seeking success and approval. His mother had worked herself to death to provide for him and his father was long out of the picture. She had given him everything he needed in the form of food and shelter, but she simply didn’t have time for the love and nurturing that he desired. Now he was on the other side of the Atlantic, putting himself through college and he didn’t call as often as he should.

“Well, no, but who is?”

Alexander chuckled at that as they continued up the stairs. “Nobody, I guess. But it’s deeper with you. That thesis you just wrote, when you turn it in, you’re going to fail, right?”

Daniel sighed deeply and nodded. “They won’t have any choice. They will think it’s some kind of cruel prank”

Alexander smiled and shook his head. “Well, the good news is that your grade on it wouldn’t matter anyway.” Before Daniel could ask the obvious question, he continued. “Tell me something Daniel, you ever hear of the Courgeuse Foi University Massacre?”

Daniel furrowed his brow at that. “The what? That’s this school. There hasn’t been any kind of massacre here. Ever.”

Alexander reached the very top of the stairs and paused near a roof access door with a padlock conspicuously cut and laying on the floor near the frame. “I didn’t think you would be aware of it. After all, it hasn’t happened yet in your present.” He checked his watch again. “In fact, it happens in about five minutes.” The door opened and Alexander preceded Daniel onto the roof of the library, five stories above the expanse of the snowy courtyard.

Daniel was momentarily blinded by the bright light of the sun reflecting off the snow, but as his vision cleared, he saw Alexander walking several steps away to where a large and menacing rifle sat with its barrel resting on a bipod. Alexander knelt and began to lift the weapon into the ledge so it was facing the open space between college buildings, full of students in mid-day transfer. Daniel felt his breath catch in his throat. He didn’t know what was going on, but he wasn’t about to let some psycho stranger shoot up the school. He decided he had to do something, and he began to rush toward Alexander, thinking that if he could hit him with enough momentum, maybe he could force him off the roof.

As Daniel’s footsteps approached, Alexander reached into a small duffel bag near the ledge and with great swiftness pulled out a pair of binoculars which he thrust forcefully into Daniel’s path, all without taking his eyes off the courtyard below. The action sufficiently confused Daniel that he halted and gingerly took the binoculars.

“Look down near the statue. You normally spent a lot of time there with Joan, right?”

“Yeah, but-“

“Look! Talk less. See the guy with the red backpack and the headphones?”

Daniel lifted the binoculars and focused on the statue, seeing the man that Alexander described. The man was tall and broad and obviously not typically college aged. He was looking around the courtyard with hard blue eyes. His hands were in his pockets and the passing students gave him plenty of space, but few spared him a second glance.

“This time of day, you would be down there too, right? Heading to your classes, maybe pausing to admire your patron. Well, where I come from, you’re down there right now, head down and moping, oblivious to the world because your thesis is going to destroy your academic career. In two minutes, that man kills you and then goes on to kill or wound two dozen more students.” Alexander lifted the rifle and began to adjust the scope. The bipod held the barrel of the long rifle steady and Alexander settled onto one knee, tucking the weapon into his shoulder.

“How do you know that?” Through the binoculars Daniel watched as the stranger knelt and opened the backpack. He meticulously drew a web harness from the backpack and wrapped it around his torso. Reaching back into the bag he drew two pistols, heavy caliber automatic weapons.

“Well, once I watched it happen. That’s Quinn. I had to check to be sure, but that’s him. Sick son of a bitch really likes this part. See how he’s just standing there now? Just holding the pistols and looking around? He’s trying to decide who to kill first. The crowd hasn’t really noticed the danger in their midst yet. But see the girl on the bench? She sees it. When she screams, the tension will be broken, and he’ll start shooting. He’ll wait until then. Wait until the peace is shattered.”

Daniel looked to Quinn’s left and saw the girl on the bench. It was Antoinette. “Hey, I know her.” He watched as her eyes widened. She covered her mouth with a hand, and he could see the fear taking hold as she saw an armed man standing openly near her. “Holy shit, she’s going to-“

Daniel leapt out of his skin as the rifle to his right erupted. Alexander had waited, and truth to be told, he liked this part too. When he saw that the moment was almost over, he held his breath and gently tightened his finger on the trigger. The bullet crossed the distance between the roof of the library and the statue in a fraction of a second. When it struck Quinn the shot fragmented as it split his sternum. Divergent pieces of the shell literally shredded his vital organs and then in a blink escaped from his back with a crimson spray. Quinn’s body collapsed to the ground and Alexander exhaled.

“Rotten fuck.” Alexander stood up and watched as the students down below scattered in response to the sound of the rifle and the expanding pool of blood that haloed Quinn’s body. “You should probably rewrite your thesis. Classes are going to be cancelled for a while, take advantage of it. We’ll talk more when we see each other again.” With that Alexander grabbed the duffel bag and pulled it over his shoulder. He lifted the rifle and then without hesitation he stepped off the ledge.

\--------------------------------------------------------------

Daniel was simply too shocked to move after Alexander casually stepped off the edge of the library roof. It was a five story drop to the ground and even with the snow, Daniel was sure he would be grievously injured if not killed. It was only after a few moments of labored breathing that he realized he hadn’t heard any commotion from below other than the scattering students in the square. He gingerly looked over the edge and down below there was nothing to be seen. No body, no rifle or bag, and no footprints in the pristine snow. He looked around him and there was certainly evidence in the snow atop the roof that he had been there, and that Alexander had been there as well. Resting nearby was the large brass shell casing discarded from the rifle. Daniel had not been imagining things.

He quickly left the roof, slipping back into the stairway and hurrying to the ground floor. He managed to return to his pile of books before the librarian made her rounds to announce that the school was being placed on lockdown and that all students were to remain indoors until otherwise instructed. Daniel meekly nodded and then hid behind a book.

The police made the next few hours uncomfortable at best. They interviewed everybody they could, including Daniel who insisted that he had been reading the whole time in preparation for his classes. The police seemed to single in on the library as the area where the shot that had killed the unknown gunman had originated from. While they did find the spent shell casing on the roof, Daniel was glad he hadn’t taken it with him. Having physical evidence on him would have made lying to the police very difficult.

Eventually the lockdown was lifted, and Daniel was able to leave the library. He opted to take the long way to the local coffee shop, avoiding the central square. Upon arrival he saw Kevin’s ancient Fiat parked in the lot. He didn’t know how he was going to explain his earlier behavior. He couldn’t tell him what he felt was going on because a sufficient percentage of him was certain that he was simply going insane. He stepped into the shop and was met with a quiet scene. Few patrons were in attendance and Kevin and Antoinette were in conversation near the counter. When they saw him, both appeared overcome with relief.

"Daniel, are you alright? We tried calling but..." Antoinette trailed off, her mind racing with what-ifs.

"I'm fine, yeah. I got trapped in the library and I left my phone in my room today." He saw a white gauze pad on Antoinette's neck. "Are you alright? What happened to your neck?"

Antoinette smirked in an indulgent way. "Don't you remember? My tattoo has been reacting to the cold air and I've been keeping it covered when I'm at work." She reached up and Daniel saw that her wrist was unblemished by the tattoo he had seen her with previously. She peeled the gauze from her neck, revealing a modest tattoo of a bird in flight.


End file.
